


History On Her Skin

by happypugfics



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV), wayhaught - Fandom
Genre: F/F, Waverly is a useless oblivious gay, Wayhaught Soulmate AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 12:26:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15315468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happypugfics/pseuds/happypugfics
Summary: …Red Hon. Civic 6RKP 34T Code 481…“Holy cryptic messages, Batman,” Wynonna shoved Waverly’s arm away and went about putting the groceries away.“This must mean they’re close right, Wynonna?” Waverly was eager.  Bright eyes and a wide smile, Wynonna almost couldn’t look at her.“I mean, close is relative, baby girl.  The distance for everyone is different, you know that,” She shut the fridge and moved over to wrap an arm around her younger sister’s shoulders and gave a tight squeeze.“Hey,” She kissed Waverly on the cheek, “They’re here somewhere.  Maybe you should write back in your own weird secret code.  They could still be close enough to see it.”OrA Soulmate AU where Waverly and Nicole can see what each other writes on their arm.  Basically, four times Waverly misses her Soulmate and the one time she doesn’t.





	History On Her Skin

**Author's Note:**

> This was a prompt I got on Tumblr. I hope you guys like it.

 

The first time Waverly feels that tingle in her arm, the one that everyone has told her about since she was little, is when she is still working at Shorty’s.  It’s a typical Tuesday afternoon and she is cleaning glasses, bored out of her mind.  The siren blaring outside somehow only helps the ambiance of misery.

A few regulars spot the place, but not enough that Waverly needs to pay constant attention to them.  It’s so slow, in fact, that she’s the only bartender until the place picks up around six o’clock.  She thinks its an itch at first and absentmindedly rolls up her sleeve to scratch.  The action doesn’t satiate the feeling, however, and Waverly’s eyes finally come down to look at the underside of her forearm.

She nearly drops the glass she’s holding.  The tingling sensation continues for a moment longer, etching into her skin what looks like someone’s sloppy and rushed handwriting.  Waverly has to squint actually, as she can barely make out any of the words.

_…Main St. S.  Purgatory  56 in 35  225…_

She is utterly confused.  Nothing about the new seemingly tattoo like sentence now on her arm makes sense.  Waverly knows by now that when someone is close enough to their soulmate that if that person were to write on any surface, it would show up on their arm.  She knew children in her first grade class who had writing on their arm.

 It was more uncommon to find a your soulmate so early, but it had happened when her own arm had remained pristine.  “ _Don’t worry Waverly.  Your time will come,”_ her teacher had said.

By the time she had gotten to middle school more kids in her class had writing on their arms, but not her.  Purgatory was a small town and everyone knew each other pretty well.  Not many people left so no one found it unusual that kids either had the writing or had already found their soulmates.

Some kids even thought they could outsmart whatever bond drew them to each other and wrote their names on as many things as they could in the hopes it would show up on the other persons arm.  Grownups knew better though, and Waverly did too.  She had given up writing her name, hoping that it would show up on the arm of whoever she was supposed to be with forever.  No writing ever showed up.  Names seemed to be the only thing the bond couldn’t transfer to a person.

 

Once she was in high school, to Waverly, it felt like everyone either had found their soulmate, or had the writing.  She took to wearing long sleeves to hide her bare arms.  The fact that she had no writing either meant her soulmate wasn’t in Purgatory…or she didn’t have one at all.  That was highly unlikely, the teachers and her friends had all said.  Everyone had someone.  Waverly didn’t see it that way.

So now, while she is at Shorty’s, 21 years old without anyone, there is suddenly writing on her arm.  Confusion.  Excitement.  Joy.  Waverly was just happy it finally happened.

Whoever it was, they were in Purgatory, _finally_.  They were close enough Waverly could probably see them.  That realization alone was enough to make her eyes wide and shoot up from her arm to scan around the Saloon.

Everyone was on their phones, watching tv, or drinking.  She spied one pen.  A construction worker come in for lunch.  He was handsome now that Waverly thought about it, and he was scribbling on some paper.  Under the pretense of wanting to see if he needed a refill, she bounded out form behind the bar, skip in her step, and over to the table.

“You need anything else?”

She angled herself so she could see what he was writing.  Though his scribble was no less illegible than what was on her arm, the angles were sharp, and when Waverly looked back at her arm, the writing there was softer.

“I’ll take another cola, if you don’t mind ma’am.”

Waverly nodded with a faltering smile and went to get his drink.  It wasn’t anyone in the bar…maybe outside?

She served the man his cola and picked up a broom to ‘go sweep the front’ and ran out of the double doors nearly breathless.  It took her a moment for her eyes to adjust to the light of the after lunch sun.  A car parked near the curb was pulling away, the driver inside angry over something.  Some people were walking on the other side of the street, but no writing.  A police car was just pulling around the corner and out of sight.

She didn’t have the time to leave and go through every shop on the block and so, defeated, Waverly resigned herself to just asking Wynonna when they both got home.

_____

 

The second time Waverly feels the tingle it’s three days later and she drops everything, much to Wynonna’s surprise, and looks at her arm eagerly.

“Woah there, Calamity Jane.  You draw that fast you’ll win the shootout,” Wynonna said with a raised eyebrow and bent over to pick up the spilled bag of groceries her little sister had just let fall all over the floor.

“It changed!  The writing changed!”

“Okay, okay, let’s look,” Wynonna put the last orange back in the bag and set it on the kitchen table.  Waverly eagerly thrust her arm in front of Wynonna’s face.  She had to put a hand at the junction of her little sisters elbow and push it back so she could see.

_…Red Hon. Civic 6RKP 34T Code 481…_

“Holy cryptic messages, Batman,” Wynonna shoved Waverly’s arm away and went about putting the groceries away.

“This must mean they’re close right, Wynonna?” Waverly was eager.  Bright eyes and a wide smile, Wynonna almost couldn’t look at her.

“I mean, close is relative, baby girl.  The distance for everyone is different, you know that,” She shut the fridge and moved over to wrap an arm around her younger sister’s shoulders and gave a tight squeeze.

“Hey,” She kissed Waverly on the cheek, “They’re here somewhere.  Maybe you should write back in your own weird secret code.  They could still be close enough to see it.”

Wynonna had a point and it quickly cheered Waverly’s fading spirit.  She scrambled to find a pencil and a piece of paper, using the receipt from the grocery store.  She couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of it sooner.

Still, what did she write?  It would be a purposeful message but it had to be short.  Not everything a person wrote appeared, just a brief snippet.  Waverly needed to make it count.  She quickly scribbled the address of the homestead on the paper and waited. 

And waited.

And waited.

And _waited_.

“Baby girl, it’s been an hour.  They’re not close right now.  Come on, let’s watch a scary movie and enjoy our Saturday,” Wynonna hugged her sister, who was sitting at the kitchen table, dejectedly looking at her arm.  Arms wrapped gently around Waverly’s neck and a familiar weight planted itself onto her back before Waverly smiled.

“Fine, but I’m picking.”

_____

 

The third time Waverly feels that familiar tingle, it’s been a week, but she’s had some time to decipher the other message left on her arm.

6RKP 34T is a license plate to a red Honda Civic.  Code 481 took some time, but with the help of Google and the internet, Waverly knows it’s a police code for a hit and run.  Waverly connected the dots only after Wynonna told her about the asshole who hit their neighbors truck and raced off when the neighbor had complained to her about it for thirty minutes while Wynonna tried to buy some whiskey from the liquor store.

So then her soulmate was…a police officer?  Waverly isn’t sure, but she finally has a long lunch break and is on her way to the station to test her theory.

In slightly less sloppy writing, on her arm now was… _ham club side of fries lemon pie slice coke…_

A lunch order.

Waverly is about to reach for the door handle when it quickly comes flying open towards her.  She quickly becomes a casualty of circumstance and the door shuts, leaving her with a bleeding nose.

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!  I didn’t see you!”

Waverly’s eyes dart up to see who had opened the door in such a rush to leave the station.  Khaki’s, navy blue, and red hair, a purgatory female officer stands there before her, a horrified expression on her face.

“It’s my own fault,” Waverly’s free hand waves away any blame.  She really should have been paying attention.  Her other hand holds firmly at the bridge of her nose, pinching hard as she leans her head back to try and stop the bleeding.

“No, no, let’ me help you,” the woman frantically searches through her many pockets until her hands finally came across a tissue.  A gentle hand reaches up and holds the tissue at Waverly’s nose and blots gently.

A crackle from the officers radio made her audibly sigh.  The redhead pulls a couple more tissues out of her pocket before she makes Waverly take hold of the one on her nose.  She places the others in the shorter woman’s free hand and smiles apologetically.

“I really am so sorry.  They’ll get you some ice inside, but I need to go,” The redhead was biting her lip, looking at Waverly one last time to make sure she was going to be fine before she was walking away, her hand on her radio, “10-4, enroute to the 415.  Haught clear.”

Waverly is slightly taken aback by the kindness.  The female officer had been surprisingly gentle and very concerned.  Accidents happened, Waverly understood that better than anyone, and she appreciated being taken care of so thoughtfully. 

With her own sigh, she manages to clear up some of the blood before going into the Station.  She embarrassingly explains her situation and someone else is kind enough to get her some ice.  Waverly remains at the Purgatory Police station for her entire lunch hour with her sore nose and gets no new writing on her arm as a result. 

She watched every officer in there fill out report after report with no so much as even an itch.  No hint of a tingle at all.

It’s disheartening and Waverly has no more time to linger.  She passes the returning officer Haught on her way out, nearly repeating the same mistake over again.

Waverly blushes and quickly just leaves, not noticing the paper diner bag in the officer’s other hand as she opens the door for Waverly to hurriedly exit.

_____

 

The fourth time?  Waverly doesn’t even notice.

It’s the same day and still two hours before Waverly can finally go home.  It’s dark outside and late in the evening, but the Saloon is just picking up.  Waverly finds she doesn’t quite have the patience for it today.

She is under the bar, restocking a few bottles from a box she brought up from downstairs when a faintly familiar voice asks for some assistance.

“Can I get a water please?”

Waverly finds herself blushing already as she raises up from the floor to look at the redhead from earlier.  Still in her long sleeved uniform, deputy hat on the counter and a bashful but eager smile on her lips.

 _Wow…she’s actually really cute_ …”Y-yeah, of course!  Just one second,” Waverly quickly ignored her thoughts and got a clean glass.  She filled it with water from a nearby pitcher as Officer Haught sat down on the barstool.

“Thanks,” The redhead smiled fondly and took a sip before setting the glass back down.  Condensation began to build on the outside of the glass.  It was warm, even inside, and Waverly couldn’t see how the woman was wearing long sleeves, even if it was her uniform, on a hot day like today had been.

“I really just wanted to come by and apologize again for earlier.  I honestly didn’t see you.  I shouldn’t have been in such a rush,” Haugh started and Waverly found herself giggling.

Why?  Waverly isn’t sure.  Maybe she’s just flattered the girl came to find her just to apologize again.  It was mighty chivalrous of her.

“Really, it’s fine.  It’s my own fault.  I wasn’t watching where I was going either and I can be a klutz sometimes,” She rests her elbows on the counter and watches the officer take another nervous sip of her water, “I won’t sue.  You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“What a relief,” the redhead laughs and her nervous smile turns into a genuine one.  “Well, I’m glad to see your nose is fine and I didn’t cause any permanent damage.  What do I owe you for the water?”

“Oh no, it’s just water.  It’s free, don’t worry about it,” Waverly waves it off and watches the office rise from her seat.  She puts her hat back on and Waverly briefly wonders how a hat can make someone look even more attractive than usual.  It’s never happened before.

“Well, thank you.  Maybe we can run into each other again sometime?  My name is Nicole, by the way.”

The officer asks it and before Waverly can even process, she is nodding.  She knows her soulmate is somewhere in Purgatory, but their messages are so spotty and there is a highly attractive woman in front of her, right now, asking her out.  People date people who aren’t their soulmates.  Waverly knows this.  It just helps pass the time until they do find them…but what would a little flirting back hurt?

“Y-yeah, sure.  Maybe without the sore nose though?  I’m Waverly.  Waverly Earp.”

“Absolutely,” Nicole smiles and takes a napkin from the other side of the bar and a pen from her uniform breast pocket and scribbles a number down onto it.

Waverly is so eager to accept it that she takes the napkin with a thanks and a big pink blush across her cheeks and nose and watches the office walk out with a tip of her hat.

It isn’t until she gets home to look at the phone number Nicole Haught left that she sees her arm and realizes the writing on the napkin matches _exactly_ the new writing on her arm.  She must have been too preoccupied to notice the tingle…and with brown eyes like Nicole’s, how could she not have been?!

“Oh. My. _God_. WYNONNA!!!”

_____

 

Her soulmate was a woman.  Waverly never thought about it before.  For some reason she had always just pictured a man, but now that she knew…she didn’t care.  It fit somehow.

She was instantly attracted to her, there was no doubt about that.  Even with blood gushing out of her nose there was no way Waverly could have _not_ noticed.  It just felt natural. She had found other people attractive before…but now that she thought about it, everything about Nicole had made her feel welcome and at home.

The redhead had been so concerned and caring when she hadn’t needed to be.  She had stopped and taken care of Waverly even when she had so obviously been in a rush.  Nicole had even tracked Waverly down, come to Shorty’s and apologized again for having accidently hurt her.  It was so considerate.  Waverly couldn’t wait to see her again.

The only problem?  She was nervous as hell.

When she thought back, Nicole had had her uniform on both times.  Her uniform was long sleeves, so Waverly had had no way to confirm that she was also Nicole’s soulmate.  With Nicole apparently being hers it only made sense, but Waverly didn’t want to be the one fluke in the universe who had a soulmate who was soulmates with someone else.

Worse still, she didn’t think Nicole knew.  Waverly had no way to know that any of her writing could lead back to her.

She found herself once more outside of the police station, standing there, very clear of the door as not to repeat her mistake from a few days ago.  Nicole’s number was already programmed into her phone.  All she needed to do was use it.

“Oh god…please answer…” Waverly hit the _dial_ button and squeezes her eyes shut, phone to her ear, as she waits for the woman to pick up.

It rings several times, and Waverly is about to give up out of embarrassment when Nicole answers.  Waverly finds that the voice immediately calms her nerves.

“ _Hello? Who is this?”_

“It-it’s Waverly.”

The voice on the other end immediately changes tone, “ _Oh! Hey!  I was wondering if you were ever going to call me.”_

“Of course I was!” Waverly retorts, finding her cheeks reddening at the accusation.  Waverly clears her throat, “A-are you busy?”

“ _A little, but it’s nothing that I can’t put off till later. Why?”_

All she needs to do is say it.

But she doesn’t.

“Do you maybe want to go out and get some lunch?  With me?” Waverly quickly adds.  Her breath is caught in her throat, bated, waiting.

There is a short silence on the other end.  The ruffling of some papers and then—

“ _Absolutely.  Do you need me to pick you up somewhere?_ ”

“Oh n-no, I’m outside the station actually…” Waverly feels a new wave of heat to her cheeks when she hears a laugh on the other end of the phone.

“ _Alright.  Give me just a minute and I’ll be out the door.  Don’t be in the way this time!_ ” Nicole chides lightly and Waverly hears a _click_ signaling the redhead has ended the call.

She waits eagerly, lacking patience as she fidgets with her thumbs, against the wall of the station, trying to look at the door and anywhere _but_ the door at the same time.

Familiar red locks in a handsome uniform appear through the glass door and Nicole turns to see Waverly there.  A smile paints itself onto the redhead’s face, spreading from cheek to cheek and the fondness of it nearly makes Waverly melt.  She wonders briefly if Nicole already feels the same way, without knowing they’re soulmates.

Waverly’s eyes dart to her sleeves and they’re long again, despite how hot it is.  She’ll need to find some way to get them up to get proof while they’re at lunch.

“Are you ready to, eager beaver?” Nicole asks with a smile and motions to the police car parked on the side of the street.

Waverly nods eagerly and the two are in an awkward, yet comfortably silent drive to the diner before she knows it.

“I’ll have the turkey sandwich with no pickles please.  And a side of chips, with a diet coke,” Nicole asks the waitress who writes it down.

“And you, miss?”

“Uhm…the mac’n’cheese grilled cheese with some fries please?  And a water.”

The waitress leaves, which leaves the two women in silence before Waverly tries to speak.

She’s cut off by Nicole, “I must have seemed a little stalkerish yesterday, having tracked you down to your place of work just to find you to apologize.”

Waverly had in fact, found it flattering.  She hadn’t seen it that way at all, “Oh, no.  I was surprised actually.  It was really nice.  Not everyone is as kind as you, at least not in this town anyway.” Waverly rolled her eyes, trying to look anywhere but at Nicole.  How did she start?  What did she say?

“Do you have a pen?” She blurted.

Nicole seemed a little surprised and found the blush on Waverly’s cheeks adorable as she nodded and passed a pen to her.

“Want to play a game?  While we wait for the food?” Waverly asked, pen in hand, same hand shaking from nervousness.

“Certainly.  I love games,” Nicole nodded and watched as Waverly took out a napkin and handed one to her as well.

“Have you played two truths and a lie?”

“No, but it sounds self-explanatory,” Nicole responded, curious.

“Alright…well then, you write down two truths and a lie on the napkin, and I will too, and we will trade off and guess which is the lie.  Lose pays for lunch?” Waverly suggested.

Nicole was eager and she nodded enthusiastically and took out a spare pen and quickly began to scribble on the paper.  Sure enough, Waverly felt the familiar tingle start up and as subtly as she could, pulled up her quarter sleeve some and looked.

Nicole’s handwriting, plane as day, scribbled into her arm.

_I’m from California.  I am 26 years old. I have a pet dog._

Waverly cleared her throat and quickly wrote down her own, trying to watch Nicole out of the corner of her eye for any signs.  The woman scratched her nose, and then her arm, before taking a sip of the drink the waitress had brought.  She seemed curious though, trying to look over Waverly’s hand to see her answers.

Waverly finished with a sigh and held her napkin out, “And now we trade.”

Nicole handed over her napkin and took up Waverly’s to read over.

“I’m fluent in 4 languages.  I have a sister.  I like you.  Oh, that one has to be the lie, “Nicole joked and looked up at Waverly, but her face fell.

Waverly had Nicole’s napkin up so she could read it, and held her arm at the same angle so Nicole could see the writing matched perfectly.

“Oh… _oh!_ ”

Waverly had an awkward smile on her face, unsure of what to say.  She was afraid Nicole was going to get up and leave.  She wasn’t doing anything except for staring at her, blankly.

Then, suddenly, the officer unbuttoned her cuff and rolled up her sleeve to the elbow and looked at her own arm.  She’d felt the tingle but she’d been too preoccupied with writing to notice.

_I’m fluent in 4 languages.  I have a sister.  I like you._

“None of them are lies…” Waverly said after a minute, “Does it…uhm…does my writing match?”

“Yeah,” Nicole smiled some at first, and then it grew ever wider until her eyes met Waverly’s again, “You like me huh?” She joked and reached across the table for her hand.

“I think that’s fairly obvious,” Waverly retorted with a laugh, “I’m glad I finally found you.  I was beginning to wonder.”

“Me too,” Nicole smiled, relieved, “I was wondering who has been scribbling wild west history into my skin.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
